Memorial Day
by Karmitara
Summary: Some boys discovered the truth behind Memorial Day


**A/N: I wrote this on my Wattpad account for Memorial Day, but decided to bring it over here.**  
 **HUMAN!AU**

"Dude, look at the price of this!" A teenage boy cheered as he held a discounted video game, "I love Memorial Day!"

"Tell me about it," The boy's friend agreed. "Four day weekend, beaches and barbeques galore, who could ask for anything better?"

As the boys continued to talk, the cashier of the game store couldn't help but listen in, his fists clenching as he tried to control his anger. He hated working here during this holiday the most, everyone that came into this store always thought of Memorial Day weekend as nothing more than endless sales.

As the boys came to check out, the blond cashier took a deep breath and smiled at them. "Hello, boys. I couldn't help but overhear you talking earlier about the sales. Could I ask you what you think Memorial Day is about?"

The boys shared a look before shrugging. "It's like, remembering when everyone was too poor to buy a lot of stuff, right? That's why they lower the price of everything."

The cashier took a deep breath as he placed their games into a bag. "Would you mind if I told you a story about why I celebrate Memorial Day?"

Again, the boys shared a look, but they agreed to listen to him. He invited them to sit in the chairs behind the counter as he leaned next to the register.

"About four years ago, a man named Alfred F. Jones joined the Army; ever since he was a child it had been his dream..."

"Say, Alfred, why do you want to join the Army? I hear it's really dangerous, and Arthur doesn't like the idea either." A young boy asked, looking over at his twin brother as they played baseball in their backyard.

"Not this again, Matthew," Alfred lifted the ball and threw it at his brother, watching as Matthew halfheartedly swung the bat and knocked it out of bounds. "And Arthur is just a controlling worry-wart that doesn't want us doing anything."

"You never answer my question though, Alfred. Give me a good reason and I'll leave you alone."

Alfred stared at his brother for a second before sighing and flopping down on the ground, looking up at the blue sky. "I don't really know, Mattie... You heard the stories that our teacher tells us about his time overseas, he says that if no one protects America, then it'll be attacked and no longer belonging to us. We won't be able to do a lot of things that we do now."

Matthew went to sit next to him, "But why you? There's plenty of others that can do it."

"What if everyone thought like that? Then no one would join." Alfred held his hand up to the sky as he smiled. "I want to join, that way I can protect everyone. I'll be a hero!"

Alfred was stubborn. When he put his mind to something, no one could talk him out of it. Matthew was nearly begged by their older brother, Arthur, to try and change Alfred's mind when they were growing up, it caused many fights between Arthur and Alfred through the years. There were times when Alfred had to go stay with their oldest brother, Francis, for a while to cool down. But Alfred stayed with his dream no matter what.

When they entered high school, people were seemingly drawn to Alfred. The teenager was charismatic, with his large smile and bright blue eyes acting like a magnet and helping him make friends with nearly everyone. He was one of the populars in high school, but he never bullied anyone and even made people straighten up their act. Everyone loved him. During games (baseball, football, and basketball) Alfred was always the star player that everyone cheered for, even the little old grandmas that came for their grandsons ended up as one of Alfred's fans.

Matthew remembered seeing all their classmates nearly break down in tears when Alfred announced he was leaving as soon as he graduated, though the female population of their school seemed to be affected the most. Everyone assumed that he would get a sports scholarship and go to college, hoping that he had given up on his childhood dream. But even if they were angry at him for "leaving them," people still made an effort to go to greet him when he walked into a classroom.

"Can you explain it better now?"

Alfred blinked as he turned to Matthew, raising an eyebrow at him. "What are you talking about?"

"People are talking about you, they want to know why you're joining at such a young age. You explained it terribly when we were kids, can you explain why now?"

Alfred chuckled as he reached over and wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulder and ruffled his hair. "Aw, is my little brother worried about me?"

"G-get off...!"

Alfred laughed as he let Matthew shove him off, swaying as he walked along the street to their house. "I'm not sure if it's better than when we were kids, but I guess my knowledge of it has gotten better."

Matthew half glared at him as he patted his hair back down but paid attention to what Alfred was saying. He raised an eyebrow as Alfred took a detour down a street that didn't lead to home, but followed after him anyway.

"I want to protect the things I love here. There are so many things we take for granted here, like freedom of speech or religion. Or the fact that we don't get stuck with one leader until they die, and if we don't like our president we can just vote him out of office next term. A lot of other countries can't do things like that." Alfred frowned as he thought about that, stopping in front of a dirt path. Matthew looked around and saw they were at the city park, looking out at the American flag as it flew in the wind.

"I love this country, Matthew... I love everything it stands for. I love the songs and poems written about it. I love this history about how we came to be. I really love everything here, Mattie." Alfred's eyes were locked on the flag, his frown from earlier was replaced with a faint smile and sparkling eyes. "I want to protect America. I don't want terrorists or war to be here, I want to still be a hero to this place. It doesn't really matter if no one knows who I am, I don't want recognition for this, but just in my own mind."

While Matthew and Alfred were polar opposites that didn't always get along, watching his brother now made an emotion swell in Matthew's chest. He wasn't sure if it was pride, but it made Matthew happy that he was related to Alfred. Eighteen years of being mistaken for and always compared to Alfred were gone, replaced with this strange emotion that he couldn't place.

Matthew smiled and placed his hand on Alfred's shoulder, making the teen look at him. "Alright. I think I understand now. I'll try and help you convince Arthur as well."

Alfred returned his brother's smile as they started walking back home again, Alfred beginning to sing patriotic songs as loudly as he could and annoying his brother.

"When it was time for Alfred to join," The cashier said with a faint smile, "Arthur acted as if he didn't care, but everyone knew he cried for a month afterward, Francis telling everyone he could. Arthur was the one that mostly raised the brothers, especially Alfred; he was more of a mother hen than a brother.

"But it was even worse when Alfred deployed to Afganistan, all three of the brothers couldn't stop worrying about him. There were very few letters and he was always busy with something and couldn't call. Arthur wrote a few letters every week, and that always made Alfred laugh and say they were worrying for nothing. They never believed him." The cashier laughed a bit and shook his head.

One of the boys studied him closely before his eyes widened and pointed a finger at him. "You're Alfred, aren't you? You were trying to throw us off with that story and talking about yourself in third person!"

The cashier blinked before he let out another laugh, but one that was very faint. He pulled dog tags from inside his shirt as he smiled at the floor, "It's been a while since someone's called me that." He handed the tags to the boys, watching as their eyes lit up in amazement as they studied the tags of Private First Class Alfred F. Jones.

"I hate to tell you though, boys," The cashier started, catching the boys' attention again, "but I'm not Alfred, I'm Matthew."

The boys looked from the dog tags to Matthew, their faces showing their confusion clearly. "Then why do you have the tags?"

"Our brother Arthur got the flag."

Their eyes widened as they looked with somewhat horror at Matthew, one of them starting to tear up. Matthew almost wanted to laugh; even after so long, Alfred still was able to capture the hearts of people.

"He died in Afgan, the hotel they were staying in was a trap, they were raided in the middle of the night. Alfred and two others held them off long enough for their squad to get to safety before they were shot..."

Matthew stood in between Arthur and Francis on the airport runway, police officers and EMTs and firefighters and even bikers and truck drivers lined up beside and behind the brothers to show their respect.

They had all been standing there for a few minutes now, but Matthew was able to see the plane that was bringing his brother home. It landed and was taxied a little way in front of them, the soldiers starting to march forward. The hold opened and a casket with an American flag was drapped over it. It was the flag that Alfred loved so much, resting over him now like a protective blanket.

As the soldiers carried the casket by them, the honor guard marching behind, Arthur suddenly let out a wail and dropped to his knees. That noise triggered the tears in Matthew and Francis as they knelt by their brother and did their best to comfort and share his pain. In that moment, each brother blamed himself for their dead sibling.

The drive to Arlington was quiet, filled by the sniffles of the brothers. But Matthew saw the line of cars that pulled over to show their respect, he heard the sirens of the emergency vehicles escorting them, he smelled the exhaust of motorbikes riding behind them and flying the flags, he felt the broken hearts of everyone around them. While Matthew was hurting for his loss, he felt that emotion in his chest again... He felt pride for his brother, pride in his achieved dream of being a hero to his country.

The graveyard was filled with mourning people, some that Matthew had never seen before. Alfred really was a person that everyone loved and wanted to be friends with.

The casket was placed under the tent and opened. Matthew had never seen his brother in his formal uniform in person before, it made him look older... But his face was peaceful, almost as if he was simply sleeping and would wake up at any moment and laugh at them all for crying. Matthew wanted nothing more than for him to just open his eyes and laugh, just one last laugh...

"Please... Please, Alfie, just wake up. You need to just open your eyes..." Matthew begged, leaning his forehead against his twin's chest. "You can't leave me, Alfie. I need you, I'm not a twin without you." No amount of begging would revive him though, and he slowly let himself get pulled away and sit down as others said their goodbyes to the hero.

Matthew watched almost emotionlessly at the countless number of people that were mourning. The goodbyes lasted nearly another hour, Matthew's mind wondering to past memories. When the first round of gunshots went off, he nearly jumped out of his skin. A soldier handed the flag to Arthur as another round of shots sounded, then another and another and another, each round feeling as though it were piercing through Matthew just as it had to Alfred.

The rest of the service went by in a blur, Matthew robotically shaking hands with the people that offered their condolences. It wasn't until a man in a wheelchair came to a stop in front of him that Matthew seemed to blink himself awake.

"You're Matthew, Alfred's twin, right?" The man asked.

Matthew raised a brow as he noticed the army uniform he wore and nodded, "Yes, sir."

The man started to stand up, two other soldiers behind him helping hold him. The man stretched out his hand for Matthew with the most sincere expression. "Matthew, I'm Private Smith, part of your brother's group. My friends and I are alive right now because of your brother."

Matthew's eyes widened as his eyes scanned the faces of the three soldiers, tears starting to fill his eyes again as he reached out and firmly grasped the man's hand. "Thank you."

"No, thank you." The man sat back in his wheelchair as another of the soldiers' offered his hand. "Your brother was a true hero. If there's anything you or your family needs, we'll do what we can."

The three soldiers saluted Matthew and his two brothers, giving them their phone numbers before leaving. Matthew looked back at the gravesite where his twin laid, a smile forming on his face.

"You hear that, Alfie...? You're a hero."

Matthew watched as the two boys tried to wipe their tears away indiscreetly, smiling a bit as he stood up straight. "Do you understand now? Why we celebrate Memorial Day? It's not remembering the poor, it's remembering the fallen soldiers that died for America. It's not about sales or barbeque, but the military."

The two of them nodded as they looked down at the games in their hands then to each other, handing them over. "You can take these back, we don't want them anymore."

Matthew smiled as he started the refund routine, soon handing the cash back to the boys. It was then they noticed a jar next to the register that was for the Wounded Warrior Project. Both boys put their twenties in the jar and started to leave. When they were at the door, the oldest boy turned back and looked at Matthew for a second before saluting him and leaving.

It surprised Matthew a bit, not expecting to have that big an impact on the boys. He knew the look that was in the older boy's eyes, having seen it too many times when he was growing up. A smile made its way onto his face at the thought of a boy following after Alfred.

Alfred was charismatic, magnetic, and electric. Everyone loved him, everyone wanted to be friends with him. He was like this hybrid, this mix of justice and heroism, who couldn't contain himself when it came to his country. Since they were kids, Alfred wanted nothing more than to be a soldier, a hero to his country and the ones he loved. He didn't get a medal or any recognition other than family and friends, but even after his death... even years later, he still inspired others.


End file.
